Tales of love and tragedy
by TheChu
Summary: A series of one-shots inspired by songs that portrait the relationship between two of the most enigmatic characters in the story. They're not songfics. Read to find out


Hi everyone!!!

This is my new project, one that I hope you enjoy as reading as much as I enjoyed writing.

This is the first chapter of a series of one-shots song inspired fics. At the end of each chapter you'll find the song, name of the author and translation of the theme that inspired me to write the fic.

So without further ado, here you go…

Enjoy.

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Cuando te conoci (When I met you)

The first time he met her, she was just a child. A spoilt, emotionally driven love-struck girl who didn't know a thing about the hardships and cruelty of the real world, that's what he saw the first time. Back then she was more inclined to please the emotionless Uchiha rather than finding her own ninja way; after all that was the whole reason as to why she decided to join the academy. Although she had been one of the smartest kids at the academy, she still needed to learn the more practical ways in which to apply the acquired knowledge rather than the theoretical ones. However when paired up with the last Uchiha prodigy and the hyperactive Kyuubi container himself, she was bound to be way out of her league, she being from a regular commoner civilian's family had been left aside not only by himself, but by her own disappointed self-esteem as well. The day they first met as she introduced herself, he knew then and there that she might be as good as not present at all; he didn't know a thing about her potential, but he was sure she was only there for all the wrong reasons. He didn't fancy training her, he didn't compliment any of her achievements, he didn't motivate her in any way and he certainly didn't want to be the want to break the pink bubble in which she lived. And so, he took the best of what he could and chose the Uchiha prodigy believing that he was the only one worth of his time; failing to see at the same time the great potential the blond knuckle head possessed. In the end he had failed them all; Sasuke had run away because he hadn't been good enough for him, Naruto found someone else to teach him how to bring his friend back (because even Naruto saw that he shouldn't have been a teacher at all), and then was Sakura; who found her vocation in the arms of the hardest mentor she could ever imagine. He never knew much of his former students after that, years passed and he still failed to see what they had become.

The next time he met her they all were four years older. The new Sakura version was taller, leaner, stronger, more confident, more violent, and more volatile than the girly picture that she had in his mind. Her hair style had become a symbol of commitment and seriousness to her chosen career, and although it still had been all about the now turned evil Uchiha Sasuke, it was no longer over an infatuation, but over a promise to Naruto, a promise to bring his brother back no matter what, a promise that she held to heart and had no intentions to break. They tried, and oh how they did, but it had been to no avail. Sasuke wasn't ready to come back, and so they waited once again for the right time. Just like that he vanished again from their lives with no motives feeling like he was no longer needed.

He met her again two years later in Suna, in a somewhat embarrassing situation. As his usual self he had decided to forgo the door in favor of the window to well mostly any building he went into. However when he was supposed to report to the current Kazekage, he didn't expect it to be while he had his hands all over a feminine figure with his tongue down her throat and humming along with her partner in crime what seemed to be unconcealed pleasure. When getting ready to leave though, a strand of pink hair made its way in between the Kazekage's fingers, then a pinker head followed, and when he saw bright sea green eyes looking back at him; he knew right then to whom they belonged to. He had never until then imagined 'sweet little Sakura-chan' involved in those type of activities. He knew she wasn't a girl anymore but she wasn't a woman either, his brain just couldn't do the match, it felt like trying to fit a square into a circle shaped hole. She left the room quietly after his interruption with a shy 'Ohayo, Kakashi-sempai' and after a few apologies she was gone from sight. Gaara didn't seem affected however by his presence since he said nothing about what the silver-haired man just witnessed, he was all business now. Kakashi appreciated it because right then he didn't know what to think about the whole ordeal, but mostly about Sakura. When he returned to Konoha a few days latter, his version of 'sweet little innocent Sakura-chan' had become updated to the image of 'not so innocent anymore Sakura'.

He never saw much of her after that. One late night it all changed tough when he heard her voice while passing by a dark alley. He never meant to make it his business to know what she was up to, but it had been unavoidable; he felt so drawn to the situation and he didn't even know why so suddenly he had the urge to be closer in order to hear more clearly what was not even his problem to begin with. He hid himself behind a large dumpster and masking his chakra carefully he was all ears then, and what he heard surprised him more than he cared to tell; not because it was indeed shocking, but because he never saw it coming. Uchiha Sasuke was back. He had been back for a few months already, but what he didn't know was that he was dating Sakura for a while; well actually had been. Apparently they were arguing quite heatedly over what appear to be a breakup. However what he didn't understand why was Sakura the one instigating the separation, as far as he knew she loved him, and as far as he knew Sasuke didn't. When did the roles changed? He left right before Sasuke came stomping his way. He arrived home not five minutes later thinking how much Sakura had changed, and as strange as it may have sound he wasn't exactly sure why, but he was glad of Sakura not dating Sasuke anymore.

They met again two years later one late night in a bar. The place had been deserted back then if not for the two of them, a few civilians, the bartender and the owner himself. When he arrived the first thing that caught his eye was the striking long pink hair sitting by herself at the bar with a large sake bottle in front of her. He had really no business talking to her anymore, but yet again he found himself drawn to the woman. While already walking unwillingly towards her without really thinking of what to say, all that was left had been improvisation. If improvisation had meant saying nothing at all and expect to be acknowledged, then he had improvised better than he thought at all. He sat himself by her left side and without a word or gesture on his behalf; Sakura turned her pretty pink head toward his presence and simply nodded a hello. They never exchanged much that night. Surely they drank to their hearts content and perhaps even more in silent companionship, thinking that somehow they were sharing their misfortunes without really conveying it. She was no longer the chatty social butterfly she had once been, and deep down it brought a little heartache to know that she felt lonely and sad. However somehow silence suited her in a different kind of way, it transformed her into a person he didn't know but certainly wouldn't mind knowing more about. That night he left after she did at dawn's break without actually learning what sorrows had she been trying to drown away. They met again at the same bar about a week later by simple coincidence or perhaps not so much, because deep down as much as he didn't want to admit it he really had been hoping to see her again. They drank at the bar that night speaking of nothing once again, and parting ways at the sun's wake. And so, every now and then they met at the same bar as an unspoken agreement of silent companionship, whenever the other had free time they would be patiently waiting for the other at the same chair at the bar at the same time of the night.

A few months later their dynamics changed when he came in and found her sitting at a table in a far dark corner. He approached her wearily not knowing what to make out of the change in locations. He was really confused as to what it may have meant at the moment, but he didn't dwell much on it since he went there anyway. He never asked why, because she already delivered the answer. Stoically as untypically of her, she said it was more comfortable if they were to drink the night away. He never questioned her actions or logic again. He bought her a drink, and then two, and three, and then more. They were seated the table this time, one in front of the other looking at one another searchingly, expecting to find the motives behind their encounters without really having to ask aloud. It was a few weeks later after the table deal that she decided to open up to him. She told him of a secret affair she held with a married man. She told him how he had said he loved her, how he said he needed her, how he convinced her that he didn't loved the woman he married, and how he promised to divorce her so he could be with her. She told him that had been months ago, and still she was waiting. She confessed she felt used and unworthy of anybody's love anymore. She had become the mistress, the other woman in someone else's life, interfering and destroying what had once been a nice household for the family to live and rely on. She didn't know he had been married when he so openly flirted with her that time they met. When they started dating he said they were already on the process of divorce. He never mentioned a child, but she found out a few months later when he met her wife at the clinic with their child in her arms going for a check up. She never felt worse, she had said. She couldn't live with the guilt anymore so she left the guy threatening him to come clean with the woman, because if he didn't confess then she would. However the damage had already been done. That's why she spent whatever free time she had at the bar away from the shame of disapproving gazes, derogative nicknames and accusatory fingers. Sure it had been a mistake, sure it had been wrong, but no one went out of their ways to accuse the reformed cheater husband like they did to the home wrecker mistress. It had been sad to listen to her story, but sadder had been the fact that as a friend he had nothing to say to her that would make her feel better. He never said anything, and right at that moment his silence had been more hurtful than her deeds.

Once again at the bar after a couple of months of not seeing each other, they sat at the table with a few drinks already having been drank. He told her a story that night and for the first time he had been the one talking. He told her about a particular life changing mission. He told her about Obito, Rin and Minato-sensei. He told her, how on that mission he had proved them all how really unworthy of them he had been. After Obito died he felt even guiltier to know that he, the scum-bag asshole he really was, survived while the compassionate loving and caring Obito was dead because he had thought that Hatake Kakashi was worth of dying for. He told her how he never accepted how the others could be have been so understanding of it and not blame him, because in his eyes it was just like he had killed the Uchiha with his own hands. He told her how he inherited all of Obito's traits as a way to make it up to him. He regretted everything that happened, but he never regretted what he had learned from him. He told her that today was the anniversary of his death and that he had been mourning all day. And just like him, she said nothing at all because she knew she had no candle to hold in the funeral. It was not her business to know, and she couldn't make his wrongs rights like he couldn't with hers, but at that point in their twisted relationship they became confidents. They were the only ones they could trust but themselves regarding the matters of heartaches. However unknowingly they became the other one's heartache as well.

Night after night at that bar they would talk, about problems, missions, random themes when they didn't feel like sharing anything personal, the past, the present, but never the future. Until one particular night after not one too many, they found themselves kissing heavily in between the sheets of his bed, entangled in the most intimately way there could with no clothes in between as well as no declared love. They were simply two wretched souls seeking to qualm the uneasiness in their hearts. Seeking the warmth that no one had been neither able nor willing to provide to their cold bodies. That night they found so much more than warmth in each other, but rather a flame that burned wildly consuming them entirely, finding that it wasn't enough and looking for more. They spent their bodies again and again until they could no more, laying satisfied in the embrace of the other without speaking a word. The dreaded morning came and Sakura was no longer by his side, or anywhere else in his apartment for that matter. She had already left without a single word, and what he learned then that he couldn't put a name to, was that waking up to find his empty bed was a really sad thing, specially when he had wanted nothing but to kiss her all day long until their lips were raw out of their unyielding and undying desire. However the attributed feeling of emptiness it left over his heart and lips were quickly replaced by another emotion he wasn't really acquaintance with and that was disappointment. Sure he had been disappointed before but in different kinds of ways and none of them had ever left his heart aching like now. And then out of the blue, insecurity came along. He was quickly realizing that perhaps what they did had only been out of need and not out of a mutually held passion for the other. He was insecure that perhaps this could lead to a rupture in their already precarious friendship, that perhaps she would regret it all and never talk to him again, and that he realized was something he found he couldn't live without anymore. Her presence in his life had become not only a constant, but a purpose. She had become his purpose and in the times they were together he found himself always doing an extra effort to see her happy. He was entranced by her eyes, and mesmerized by her lips. Every time she spoke he found his eyes unknowingly trailing down to her mouth, and it was then when all coherent thoughts decided to fly out of his head; and all he could think about were the taste, the feeling, actions and reactions he could take and give to those pink lips. As fate will have it though, she never came back to him. Not to the bar and certainly not to his bed anymore. He didn't know how to feel anymore. Disappointed, perhaps; angry, not; hurt, somewhat; lonely, definitely.

A month later during a particularly nasty storm in plain winter season, a soft knock he heard coming from his front door. He found her standing there drenched to the bone looking like a cat that had been introduced to the water for the first time in its life, and certainly didn't like it. He took her to the bathroom for a hot shower bath, but she stood rooted to the place. He told her where to find clean towels while he provided her with clean, dry and warm clothes. He was about to leave when suddenly with a tone just above a whisper she told him of her last mission and how she killed a rapist after he saw what he did to all those girls. She was in shock, but she wanted to forget, she said. Slowly and delicately he stripped her out of her wet cold clothes, and there was nothing sexual about it. She let him undress her and take her to the bathtub, while he seated himself in front of her with their hands linked, just letting her be and enjoying each others' presence, warmth and silence. After a few minutes she fell asleep in the tub, so he took the sponge and bathed her, careful not to wake the pink-haired goddess. When he finished, he took her to his bedroom to dress her when he noticed several deep dark bruise that looked quite painful all over her torso, arms and legs. He kissed each one of them trying to make her feel better; he dressed the obviously exhausted woman and left the room quietly. Later that night she came to the living room looking for him, she woke him up and said that his bed was far more comfortable and warmer with him in it, so he followed her. That night they made love, slow, passionate and exploring. Each caress was searching, each kiss was meaningful, each embrace was comforting, and each thrust was bliss. The feel of her naked skin against his was heavenly, and her heart beating to the rhythm of his own was simply exhilarating. He loved her all night long and held her in between his arms all dawn until the morning came. She left again that day, but she returned that night. Again and again they turned to each other since then, sometimes to her bed, sometimes to his; there were even one occasion or two were it had been neither but rather the back alley of the bar, or deep inside the forest with no witnesses but old owls and young crickets who sang the night away.

They were happy for a while, until he confessed. He confessed his love for her, and she turned him down, saying that she was meant to love anyone. Her poor heart had been broken one too many times, she had said. His too, only she didn't know that. He hadn't meant to fall for her, but he did and as much as he wanted, he couldn't take it back. She said she wouldn't change her ways not even for him, and then left, out of his door, out of his life once again. He sought her out on several occasions, but she refused to be found. He wrote a letter every time he was away, but she never answered. He bought her flowers the last time she was at the hospital half dead, but she had been unconscious then. He found her one afternoon in the hospital's garden some months later. He said hi and she answered back. He asked her if there was ever a chance of their relationship being what he had wanted it to, she said no. He asked her if she would ever change because of him or for him, she said no. He asked her whether she wanted or not for him to be a part of her life again, she said he shouldn't, because then she might have fallen for him as well, and she couldn't do that. He asked her if she would answer his letters while he was away, she said perhaps. And without further ado he left her on the bench of the park with a familiar 'thank you' as a goodbye. And once again her heart broke, because it was then that she understood how she loved him too.

He never came back. He resigned his shinobi status and left to travel aimlessly around the world. He thought about her as less as he could, and wrote her whenever he found something worth telling. He made a few friends along the way, until years after no one heard of him anymore. He became a distant memory to Konoha, but not to Sakura. She thought of him every single day, and missed him every single night. She didn't change though, just as she promised she wouldn't. And in the end, both souls left each other suffering slowly and in silence, just like in the beginning when they met.

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Inspired by:

Cuando te conoci (When I met you) – Andres Calamaro

Cuando te conocí ya no salías con el primero que te había abandonado, / _When I met you, you weren't dating the first guy that left you anymore,_

No vale la pena hablar de aquellos años pasados. / _Is not worth speaking of those past times anymore._

Cuando te conocí ya no salías con aquel chico casado, / _When I met you, you weren't dating that married guy anymore,_

Que te prometía que la dejaría y todavía no se había divorciado. / _the one that promised you he would leave her, but had yet to divorce._

Cuando te conocí salías con un amigo de los pocos que tenias, / _When I met you, you were dating one of the few friends you had,_

Eras lo mejor de su vida, pero fuiste lo mejor de la mía / _you were the best of his life, but you were the best of mine._

Cuando te conocí mire por un agujero en los pantalones, / _When I met you, I looked through a hole in your pants,_

Y dos años después ya tomabas todas las decisiones / _and two years later you were the one making all the decisions._

Cuando te conocí te reconocí por tus botas, / _When I met you, I recognized you by your boots,_

Y mientras tomabas tequila dejamos atrás dos almas rotas. / _and while you drank tequila we left behind two broken souls._

Cuando te conocí dijiste que por mi no ibas a cambiar / _When I met you, you told me you wouldn't change because of me,_

Ibas a seguir siendo igual, / _you would've remained the same,_

Ibas a seguir siendo igual / _you would've remained the same._

Y en el fondo es tan hondo mi dolor / _And deep down, this pain is so hard,_

Porque me voy y no se puede cambiar / _because I'm leaving and we cannot change_

De corazón como de sombrero, / _hearts like we change hats,_

Sin haber sufrido primero. / _without suffering first._

Y en el fondo es tan hondo mi dolor / _And deep down, this pain is so hard,_

Porque me voy y no se puede cambiar / _because I'm leaving and we cannot change_

De corazón como de sombrero, /_ hearts like we change hats_

Sin haber sufrido primero. / _without suffering first._

Cuando te conocí me dijiste que por mi no ibas a cambiar / _When I met you, you told you wouldn't change because of me,_

Ibas a seguir siendo igual, / _you would've remained the same,_

Ibas a seguir siendo igual. / _you would've remained the same._

Y en el fondo es tan hondo mi dolor / _ And deep down, this pain is so hard,_

Porque me voy y no se puede cambiar / _because I'm leaving and we cannot change_

De corazón como de sombrero, / _ hearts like we change hats_

Sin haber sufrido primero. / _without suffering first._

En el fondo es tan hondo mi dolor / _And deep down this pain is so hard,_

Porque me voy y no se puede cambiar / _because I'm leaving and we cannot change_

De corazón como de camisa, / _hearts like we change shirts_

Sin perder la sonrisa. / _ without losing our smiles._

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So what do you think?

You liked it? Did you not?

Please feel free to leave whatever comment you wish to and tell me what you honestly think.

Reviews are really appreciated.

Thank u very much for reading.

TheChu


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